Chapter 9: Throat Training
Malik’s cock was still growing and rising again under the influence of her hand. The transformation was relentless, a living thing thickening and lengthening in her fist until the sheer weight of it demanded her second hand for support. She cradled the heavy base, her left hand joining her right in a futile attempt to sheath the impossible girth. Her knuckles strained white.
“Enough,” he grunted, the word cutting through the wet, rhythmic sound of her stroking. “Use your tongue.”
The command was a bucket of ice water down her spine.Her hands stilled. She stared at the monstrous, glistening head, purplish and veined, leveled at her face. The drop of pre-cum welling from the slit looked like a threat. Her stomach tightened, a coil of pure fear. Yet her mouth flooded with saliva.
Slowly, as if moving through deep water, Marie leaned forward. The scent of him, musky and clean, filled her nose. She placed her lips, dry at first, against the smooth, hot crown. She stuck out her tongue, a tentative pink point, and swirled it around the glans.
The effect on him was immediate. A sharp intake of breath. A twitch that sent a fresh bead of fluid onto her tongue. It was salty, slightly bitter, utterly foreign. The glans seemed enormous to her, a blunt, domed instrument that completely occupied her mouth’s attention. For a disconnected moment, she had fun with it, swirling her tongue around the sensitive ridge, tracing the thick vein that ran along the underside. A low, approving rumble vibrated from his chest.
Mmmh.
Then she slid her tongue all the way up the shaft. It was a journey. The length of him felt endless, a landscape of hot, smooth skin over impossibly hard core. She spent several seconds traveling the entire length, base to tip, a sensation of pure scale she had never had with her husband. This was not intimacy. This was exploration of a foreign, dominant territory.
“Good,” Malik rasped. “Now really suck it.”
Marie stopped. She pulled back, looking up at him past the obscene monument of his erection. Her voice was a thin, choked thing. “It’s… it’s really too big. I can’t. I could never—”
He didn’t argue. He simply placed his huge hand on the top of her head, his fingers tangling in the pins of her bun, surrounding her skull almost entirely. The pressure was not yet forceful, but it was absolute in its promise. It guided her back down.
She placed her lips on the glans again, parting them.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice a dark caress. “Open up.”
As she strained her jaw, he placed his other arm over her hunched back. His big hand slipped under her skirt, skimming up her stockinged thigh, past the hem of her now-abandoned panties. He went along the line of her buttocks, stopping for a few agonizing seconds at the puckered edge of her ass. Her whole body clenched. Was he going to put a finger in her ass?
But he continued his path to her pussy.She was soaked. His fingers slid through her slickness without resistance. When he inserted a single, thick finger into her, crooking it upward, a shocked, sharp cry was punched from her lungs.Ah!
The sound was muffled by his flesh in her mouth. The glans disappeared past her lips as her jaw dropped open in stunned pleasure. It completely filled her mouth, a stretching, overwhelming presence that left little room for her tongue, but she tried to play as best she could, lapping at the underside.
“Fuck yes,” Malik growled. “Take it, you hungry bitch.”
He placed his second hand on top of the first, a double weight on her head. He pressed down.
Marie could not do anything else in the face of the colossus’s strength. She accepted more of him into her mouth. The broad head lodged against the roof of her mouth, the sides straining her cheeks. She gagged, a wet, choking sound.Ghk! Tears sprang to her eyes.
With his other hand, he added a second finger to her pussy, scissoring them, stretching her in tandem with the stretch of her jaws. She began to moan, a continuous, muffled keen of overwhelmed sensation. Mmmph! Mmmph! The vibrations traveled down his shaft.
“That’s my married whore,” he grunted, his hips giving tiny, involuntary thrusts up into the wet heat of her mouth. “Sucking a black dick in a parking garage.You love this. Don’t you?”
She tried to shake her head, but his grip was iron. Her moans escalated.
“You’re a good girl when you obey,” he said, his voice tight with strain. “A filthy, perfect little cocksucker.Now swallow. More.”
He guided her head down further. The thick crown hit the back of her throat. Her body revolted. Her throat muscles spasmed, her eyes streamed. She gagged violently and tried to pull away.
His hand was instantly a vise. He brought her back down, inexorable. “Uh-uh. You take it.”
The pressure was intolerable. The ache in her jaw was a bright, white pain. Yet, the fact that he was playing with his fingers inside her, curling them just so, pushed her to exceed her limits. A dark, shameful current of pleasure short-circuited her panic. She relaxed her throat, fraction by fraction. She swallowed around the intrusion.Gulk.
The sound was obscene. He groaned in approval. “Yeah. Just like that. Gag on it. Choke on it.”
He established a brutal, shallow rhythm, fucking her face with controlled, punishing thrusts. Each one bumped the head against her tonsils. Spit and tears ran down her chin, onto his thighs. Her nose was filled with his scent. Her world narrowed to the stretch of her lips, the prodding at her throat, and the exquisite, betraying curl of his fingers inside her wet cunt.
After a while, after several guttural grunts from him, his rhythm began to stutter. “Gonna unload,” he warned, his voice ragged. “You swallow every fucking drop. You hear me?”
She tried to nod, a pathetic little motion against his hold. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She had never liked it when she sucked her husband. Most of the time she spat it out, finding the act distasteful, a marital duty.
Malik’s hand kept her from pulling away.
The first jet hit the back of her throat with a force she had never known. It was hot, thick, and voluminous, a shocking flood that bypassed her taste buds and went straight down.Glrk! She swallowed convulsively.
The flow of sperm was so much greater than her husband’s. A second, then a third powerful pulse followed right after, coating her tongue, filling every crevice of her mouth. She swallowed as best she could, but it was too much. Thick, warm cum spilled out the sides of her stretched lips, flowing in white rivulets down his still-hard shaft and onto the dark leather seat.
It lasted several seconds, an eternity of salty, bitter abundance.
When he was finally spent, his hand loosened. Marie raised her head, pulling off with a wet, gasping sob. Hah… hah… Her mouth was still full. She wiped at her lips with the back of her hand, smearing it. Her face was a mess of tears, spit, and his semen.
Malik looked down at himself. His cock, glistening and deflated slightly, was streaked with white. “Clean it,” he ordered, his voice flat, post-coital.
Marie had never done it before. But without a word, eyes downcast, she leaned down again. She ran her tongue along the length of him, licking the spend from his skin, collecting the bitter-salty fluid from her own chin. She worked until no trace remained, until he was clean, leaving only the sheen of her saliva.
He watched her, his expression unreadable. Then, with a rough pat on her cheek, he pushed her back into her seat. He quickly tucked his soft, heavy cock away and zipped his jeans.
The mundane sound was deafening.
Silence fell, broken only by Marie’s shaky attempts to breathe normally. She fumbled for a tissue in her purse, wiping her face with trembling hands.“My place. Tonight,” Malik said, staring straight ahead through the windshield at the gray concrete wall.
“I… I can’t,” Marie whispered, the protest weak, automatic. “It’s not possible. My family…”
He turned his head. His eyes were dark pits in the gloomy light. “You’ll manage.”
“Malik, please.”
“You want it,” he stated, cutting her off. His words were crude, short, and final. “You’re dripping for it. Your married pussy is begging for it. Be there by nine. Or don’t.” He shrugged, a massive roll of his shoulders. “But we both know you will.”
He reached over her and pushed the passenger door open. The gesture was a dismissal. The humid, oily air of the garage washed in.
Marie stumbled out of the SUV, her legs barely supporting her. She didn’t look back. She heard the engine roar to life as she fumbled for her own keys, the sound echoing like a beast in the concrete cavern. The black SUV pulled away, its tires squealing slightly on the smooth floor, and disappeared up the ramp.
She stood there, alone in the flickering half-light. The taste of him was still in her mouth. The ache of him was between her legs. And the echo of his command—tonight—pounded in her ears with the same relentless rhythm as her heart.